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Author: snowglow1275
Archive: Ask and you shall receive.

Disclaimer: *laughs*

Title: Standing in the Wind

Prompt: #1- Kate/Tony het. Having read a lot of slash Tony angst I would
quite like to read a het story with hurt!Tony. Emotional hurt
preferred, but physical is also welcome. I'd like to see Kate coming
to some realisations about him like she does in SWAK. But, uh, I don't
want a fic about SWAK.

A/N: The thing is- I don’t read or write het. But I tried, for you. I had a few ideas written but the only thing I liked was this, and it really doesn’t work for most of your prompt, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, this is not a song!fic but the title is from Modern Love by David Bowie

Genre: het

Pairings: Kate/Tony
Rating: PG
Word Count: 800
Summary: It’s just another joke, until it isn’t.

Some take out from that new Italian place, a glass of champagne, and a nice hot bubble bath is all she really wants. After a long day on the job, putting up with Tony’s constant yammering without even the benefit of McGee to gang up on or with, Kate just needs to get away from all that. So when Dinozzo jumps up and heads her off just as she’s about to get into the elevator it’s really all she can do to not blow him off completely.

“What do you want, Tony?” She says as she hits the button frantically.

He leans nonchalantly against the wall but there’s an unusual tension in the way he smirks. She’s too damn grateful to be leaving for the day to care. “Just thought you might wanna grab some dinner, someplace quiet, you know. Relax.” Tony looks down nervously, “it’s been a long day.”

She can’t help the inelegant snort as the doors open and Tony follows her into the elevator, “That’s it? No jokes about a ride on the Dinozzo express? You’re loosing your touch.”

Tony chuckled and turned so he wasn’t facing her directly, “yeah, that was a little lame, huh?”

“I mean, I think I’m a little insulted, at least you’re usually creative. That was almost like you were actually asking me out.”

Kate grinned up at Tony, waiting for the retort she’d left him wide open for. When he caught her looking he turned up the fake smile as high as it would go, “yeah, yeah, ‘cause that would be, you know. Ah, look at that. I think that’s my stop.”

The doors were opening on the ground floor. It was her stop, actually, since he’d only followed her on and she was the only other person there. The ball dropped when he turned to make a hasty retreat.

“Shit. Tony!” She called as she caught up with him, “I just meant- you wouldn’t. I mean, you aren’t. Are you?”

Kate knew there was more to Tony than a boy pulling on her pigtails but most of the time that was the only level she ever acknowledged, the only level he ever seemed to want acknowledged. If this was him offering to let her in deeper, to give more of himself, she didn’t think she had to strength to say no to that.

Tony was rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “well, only if you- Yeah, if you want.”

This was so weird, so un-Dinozzo-like. She’d seen him around plenty of women, flirting and cocky. She’d also seen him more like he looked in front of her now, a little unsure, embarrassed, but sucking it up to get the job done. The two had never crossed paths before, but then again she’d never seen him actually go after a women. It was always about the case, or his image, never true interest. If this was him honestly putting himself out there could she possibly turn that down? Especially when it had become an almost pathological need to push him, just to see if she could coax him a little more out of that superficial, artificial shell he so desperately clung to. She was a profiler, she’d always known what she saw wasn’t all there was. Now it was crunch time, and even if she had no clue where this could possibly go, she knew she had to find out.

Kate reached up and tugged lightly at the base of Tony’s neck, pulling him, unresisting and a little surprised, down to her level.

It was a short, chaste kiss but she could feel him come out of his stupor near the end. Could feel his lips curl against hers before she pulled away.

“Yeah, Dinozzo, I think I’d like that.”

There was a happy, awestruck look on his face, and it made her think that maybe it really was true that there was an uncertain little boy in every man and it made her unreasonably delighted to think she’d put that smile on his lips. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him away again.

“But not tonight.”

Because nothing had changed, really, she was still exhausted, and had spent all day with Tony at his most annoying, and it would never matter what he meant to her, she would always need time way from that.

“Oh, right. Ok, so tomorrow maybe?” Tony calls as she turned back around to head into the parking garage. “I’ll just see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Bye, Tony.” She calls with a wave over her shoulder. It’s not the most romantic start to whatever this may be, and there’s really no telling how long it will last, but it’s something she has to see through to the end.

Title: Slowly Learning

Prompt: #3- McGee/Tony slash. Tony gets hurt and McGee feels guilty about
it (I don't mind if it was his fault or if his guilt-trip is
unnecessary), so he winds up caring for Tony through the recovery
stages.

A/N: Something more along the lines of what I’m comfortable with, to help make up for the likely lacking in the last fic. Also, again, not a song!fic but the title is from Take On Me by A-Ha

Genre: Slash

Pairings: Tony/Tim
Rating: PG
Word Count: 530

Summary: Getting hurt is part of the job.

“Wait, wait, let me get that!”

“I can open my own damn door, McGee!” Tony growls, but even as the words leave his mouth he fumbles the keys. They’re so far down, and the pain killers are making every movement awkward, so after only a moment of thinking about bending down while trying to keep his hold on his crutches he begrudgingly allows Tim to pick up the keys and reach around him to open the door.

He knocks Tim’s arm out of the way and hobbles quickly inside. He’s tired and despite the massive amounts of pain killers they’ve got him on there’s still a really distracting throbbing in his calf. He can hear Tim behind him grabbing something out of the kitchen and rummaging through the bag of meds so he just keeps moving while he’s got the momentum and heads straight for the bedroom.

His shirt is easy to get off, and the sweatpants stretch around the cast easily enough because they’re old and Tim’s and hung off his hips even before he lost a few pounds, but the legs on his boxer briefs are just not stretching wide enough. The sound of seams ripping makes Tony cry out in frustration just as Tim walks in with a glass of water and some pills.

“I hate this!”

Tim hands him the pills then the water and watches patiently as he swallows. He’s feeling morose so he keeps wining, “why does it always seem like I’m the one hurt on the job? Remind me to let someone else get clipped by a car next time.”

Tim’s sympathetic face morphs into something like stricken as he takes a step back, “I’m sorry, I-“

But he’s already turned defensive, poking a finger into Tony’s space, “you didn’t have to, getting hurt is part of my job, too, and I never asked you to-“

His mind and heart working, as always, at lightning speed, Tim is changing tactics again, backing away, “maybe I should- Do you want me to- I can go.”

Tony looks at Tim’s nervous, guilty face and hates the way his mouth runs away from him sometimes, like when he’s high on vicodin.

“No! Stop it, Tim.”

Tony tries to get up off the edge of the bed, putting all his weight on one foot and reaching out for Tim, “I didn’t mean it like that. Come here, please.”

Tim is still watching him warily, torn with insecurity worrying about what Tony really wants from him in this moment.

“Please, Timmy.”

And Tim moves, inching closer until Tony can grab him and hold on, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Tim tucks his head into the crook of Tony’s neck and says, “I didn’t mean it either, I don’t want you to do that ever again.”

“I know. That’s just it, Timmy, you don’t have to want it. I’ll always jump in front of a bullet for you.”

There’s a shiver through the body he’s holding and Tim says, forcefully, “don’t say that. It was a car.”

“Sorry. It was a figure of speech.”

They stand there, holding each other up and re-absorbing the knowledge of what they already knew they had.